Tinā is one of the most powerful films I’ve seen in years – utterly compelling from start to finish.

The performances are incredible, deeply believable, and bring this story to life in a way that will resonate with anyone who has a heart.

The film employs striking Christchurch imagery and provides an honest portrayal of how so-called prestigious Christchurch high schools can behave.

What ties everything together is the universal language of music, love, and respect.

At its heart, Tinā tells the story of Mareta Percival, a Samoan teacher struggling with grief after losing her daughter in the Christchurch earthquakes.

While the earthquake itself is not the central theme, its aftermath reverberates through the film, shaping the emotional and psychological struggles of the characters.

Mareta’s personal loss still weighs heavily on her as she navigates a new chapter in her life—a reality shared by many in Christchurch, who continue to grapple with the lasting effects of the quake.

Reluctantly taking on a substitute teaching role at an elite private school, she finds herself surrounded by students battling their own hardships—some more visible than others.

The film explores how trauma lingers, not just in the broken buildings of Christchurch but in the lives of those left behind.

What sets Tinā apart is its intelligence and depth. It never relies on stereotypes, instead portraying its characters with nuance and authenticity.

Every individual—whether teacher, student, or parent—feels real, shaped by their own experiences rather than clichés.

It’s a film that reflects a mature New Zealand, one that acknowledges cultural and societal tensions without oversimplifying them, so often seen in media.

There are moments of humour, but they exist purely to show humility rather than serve as comic relief.

These light touches add to the film’s emotional weight, making the characters even more relatable.

Anapela Polata’ivao delivers an absolutely standout performance as Mareta, a woman who fights not for recognition but for the values of respect and togetherness.

Mareta is the kind of character who lingers in your mind. She’s the one you can share a cheeky private joke with or confide in about your struggles, knowing she’ll stand by you without judgment—something that sets her apart from others.

Anapela Polata’ivao’s performance is so raw and real that at times, you almost feel rude for watching—like an intruder witnessing someone’s unimaginable pain.

Antonia Robinson, who plays Sophie—a student battling her own demons—is exceptional.

By the time the film ends, you just want to hug her character and let her know things will eventually be okay.

The supporting cast delivers equally powerful performances, with every role adding depth to this emotionally charged story.

Directed by Miki Magasiva, the creative team has crafted something truly special—handling complex themes with sensitivity while ensuring the story remains gripping, authentic, and deeply moving.

A special highlight in the film was seeing the characters visit the Christchurch seaside suburb of New Brighton, a regular childhood spot of mine, where they had to buy clothes for their first choir performance.

Seeing such a familiar place on screen, woven into the story so naturally, made the film feel even more personal and grounded in Christchurch’s identity.

This film feels uniquely New Zealand and Tinā deserves a special place in New Zealand’s film history—cinema that not only tells a powerful story but holds a mirror up to the city.

It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced such an emotional rollercoaster in a film—where the anticipation of sadness is so overwhelming that, even though you know what’s coming, you still cling to hope for a different outcome.

By the end, I had a dull headache from crying, but that’s a testament to how real this film is.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the Christchurch theatre. If there’s only one film you watch this year, make it Tinā.

Screening dates and times 

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